


xii. this angel is both you and i

by orphxus (impxria)



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: F/M, M/M, Other, but im happy w/ the result !!, description is from 'the hour of the star' by clarice lispector, this felt very abstract i was like ?? idk where i'm going with this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23868691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impxria/pseuds/orphxus
Summary: [ xii. the hanged man. ]( who has not asked himself at some time or other:am i a monster or is this what it means to be a person? )
Relationships: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 52





	xii. this angel is both you and i

**i**. the sunlight shows the purity in your soul ( & so you hide in the darkness )

he has laid claim to every part of your body. the moonlight settles into a cold room, highlighting the red marks that adorn pure skin. there’s a comfort to be found in your warmth, he finds, his arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly as you both recover from the high together. in the dark, you are more radiant than he has ever seen before.

“are you hurt?”

you laugh at the graveness in his tone and a blithe smile finds its way to his lips at the sound of it. a laughter as sweet as honey, he thinks, and then he wonders what his brothers would think if they ever discovered he made such a ridiculous comparison.

“no, i’m okay.” a pause, then a small grin. “are you?”

this time, he laughs.

“what a presumptuous question.”

you lie together in quiet peace, your fingers weaving through raven locks as his hand traces circles on your back. a calming touch-- one that slowly invites slumber. he is not one to fall asleep first-- whether it is because he is unable to fully let down his guard or if he finds solace watching you sleep, he does not know. but tonight, he is too tired, too exhausted, and allows sleep to take over.

it feels like hours that you watch him, and just like previous moments in the night, he has taken your breath away. he is a demon that is filled with solitude and unrest-- but when you look at him now, all you see is contentment. tranquility. 

when he wakes, all that remains will be traces of happiness.

your hand grazes his cheek, softly, tenderly. your lips part and suddenly, you are hesitant and afraid. there is something so broken and sorrowful woven into your voice that you cannot even speak above a whisper.

“what are you hiding?”

his lashes flutter slightly, and you wonder if he heard you.

( you are carrying such a heaviness in your heart, pride demon. )

**ii**. and you know you are doing the right thing  
( _you must know you are doing the right thing_. )

\-- _is he_?

had it not been him doing so, what would he have thought of this? imprisoning his brother? hiding his sister’s rebirth? logic and rationale have always proved him right, but even now, all the logic in the world cannot rid of the guilt that blooms with each beat of his heart. 

how long? how long, he wonders, will he continue this facade? thousands and thousands of years-- perhaps even more?

it is a dreadful thought-- one that brings such intense misery that even he, the avatar of pride, cannot fathom it.

but it is something that must be done. it doesn’t matter what he feels or what he thinks.

he must protect his family.

**iii**. & we’re drowning, we need saving

you are not familiar with this side of him. to hear that lucifer is different when the drinking goes a bit too far is not surprising-- but it _is_ surprising to witness it firsthand. he is more affectionate, more honest. 

getting him to bed is more difficult than you’d like to admit, and while his brothers are more than happy to take the opportunity to wreak havoc in his room ( under the guise of providing assistance, naturally ), you deny their help. it’s a slow process, unfortunately, albeit frustrating, but you manage to get him to lie down. you pull the covers over him, ignoring his focused stare.

in a drunken haze, he asks you a question.

“what do you do with a lifetime of regrets?”

his cheeks are flushed, a foreign look of tenderness on his features as he awaits your answer. there is no correct response-- no matter how hard you search for it, it will never come.

“make amends, i guess.”

“and if you cannot?”

you freeze, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. there are answers you seek from him-- and if you truly wanted to, you could even dare to uncover the truth behind his brother and sister right now. but he is not one to take advantage of, and to discover the truth in such a manner only leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. you try not to put too much thought into this conversation-- it’s too quick of a spiral down the rabbit hole.

you know he will not remember this, so you kiss his forehead softly, fingers brushing away stray locks of hair on his face.

“try not to shoulder it alone.”

you pause, ignoring the lump in your throat.

“no one should live with so many regrets, lucifer. i hope you don’t always have to.”

the words come much quieter than either of you expect and you catch a flicker of sadness in those red eyes. but he smiles a soft smile, as rare as it is, and it makes your heart ache in unfamiliar ways. it is a strange nostalgia, this situation-- a reminder of that night you experienced with him before. you expect him to continue with the questions, but he does not.

the way your name leaves his lips serves as a reminder that he once was an angel-- your chest feels as if it is constricted when you hear it.

“thank you.” he murmurs, grabbing your hand. he presses kisses against each knuckle; you cannot help but smile weakly at his actions.

( how foolish, he thinks, that it is not even pride that causes him to bear the weight of his choices alone,  
but for the family he feels slipping from his grasp. )


End file.
